Catalyst
by bite the hand that feeds
Summary: Between the great clans, there is a history that always repeats itself. sometimes it just needs a little nudge.


**Disclaimer: **The world and the characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto. The concept comes from ffn and hey-hey-diddle. I own nothing.

**Notes:** This was spawned by a crack challenge from the awesome Hey-Diddle-Diddle. This pairing is a very odd idea to me, and we challenged one another to try and pull it off while remaining as _in-character _as possible. The drabbles we came up with were surprisingly different, and this is my half of the deal. Apologies to my LJ Flist who've already been subjected to this :)

All comments and suggestions you have would be very much appreciated XD

* * *

Itachi never figured himself a teacher.

He's always known he was a little too analytical, a little too cut off from the world around him. He could hardly remember, now, a time without Kisame's surprisingly intuitive ability to steer Itachi out of the small scrapes and paths of trouble that – if left in his Anbu-trained hands and sleek shinobi finesse – would no doubt just be expressed in simple, straightforward massacres.

Itachi has always understood the fundamentals of power; though not in the way ignorant shinobi seem to understand it. In his years as a shinobi Itachi has watched with disdain as ignorant children such as his brother, or Orochimaru (and the names are like spittle; insignificant on his tongue) seek it from the outside, as if true power was ever something that could be easily _obtained._

It's why, when their target – _Uzimaki Naruto_, as each time they meet the arrogant boy refuses to let them forget – returns to Konoha, Itachi allows himself to scour the village, watching so closely the way the place moves. He's always been a little narcissistic, after all, and the blindness of others has always been a fascination.

He gains a sick sort of enjoyment, tracing the worn curves of his old home, and relearns Konoha's routine as though she were an aging friend; comfortable, and close, and obsolete.

-

The Hyuuga Clan, Itachi is not surprised to discover, has taken over Konoha in their typical _cooler-than-thou_ fashion.

He watches them glide through the dusty streets, and can see in Hiashi's dull white eyes the same arrogant self-importance that infused and weakened his own clan. He trains sporadically, makes grandiose demands, and Itachi notices the glaring blindness that has the man ignore what he cannot use; neglecting so much of his powerful family that Itachi is surprised he can make such claims of Clan Excellence, when he clearly does not _see_ what his clan has truly become.

Itachi watches the so-called _heir _of the Branch House, Hyuuga Neji, as he moves through stunningly perfect kata. He studies the boy with confident eyes as he swans through powerful moves as if they were his own.

Itachi discovers Hyuuga Neji as he struggles mindlessly to _better himself_, to _gain_ something outside of the Tragic Role he insists upon playing. His cousins visit occasionally, bringing refreshment and sparring partners and strained, half-grunted conversation, and Itachi learns all he'll ever need to know.

Nothing of this clan interests him.

Except for her.

-

Hyuuga Hinata is utterly innocent. That's the first thing Itachi thinks when he steals into her room and into her nightdress in the same bloody twilight of the Tsukiyomi. It's the easiest way, after all, to convince her it's a dream. The easiest way to bring her round to his point of _view_.

Hinata is a little slut, once she gets going. This is the second thing Itachi finds out.

All that pained desperation, wrapped neatly up in sixteen years of smitten, horrid yearning for anything other than what she gets, and Itachi can sense the power in _this_ one, as surely as if it was under his own skin. She's the perfect foil to these games, decides Itachi, as beneath the covers of this virgin's bed he grinds the hatred out from within her, twists it into something he can use.

"The Clan is all encompassing," he whispers, hot against her ear, forcing her to repeat it before he lets her climax, using every Sharingan trick he knows to make it hurt a little more. "Say it."

She obeys him, repeatedly, every single time, and shivers as she slides into limpness, sliding into sleep as Itachi slips from the window.

Hinata seems to always wake up now with stained sheets and horrid dreams, and feels more trapped than ever.

-

Months later, when the Hyuuga Clan is massacred by their white eyed heiress, only Neji is left alive to wonder why.


End file.
